Leif
by Windschild8178
Summary: Fairies are being murdered left and right by Death Eaters. When Leif is taken prisoner and placed in a hole in the ground, she expects that this is the end. What she didn't expect was a human child to be dropped in her prison or that Ron Weasley would change her life forever. A six-part short story with little one-shots snippets during the war. Set in Spitfire Universe.
1. Part 1: Hole

Disclaimer: I Don't own Harry Potter. Go figure.

Summary:

Fairies are being murdered left and right by the Death Eaters. When Leif is taken prisoner and placed in a hole in the ground, she expects that this is the end. What she didn't expect was a human child to be dropped in her prison or that Ron Weasley would change her life forever.

The wonderful artwork is by Leo:

Their Tumblr page is: Queerofrock

Now for this series, it is all from Leif's point of view and I picked scenes between Leif and Ron that **are NOT in Spitfire. **So it may seem as if I am sort of skipping around randomly and that there are important things missing because there ARE a lot of important bits missing.

**This Six Part series is more about important moments between Ron and Leif during the war so much of the war itself will be just background and each chapter will jump forward in time**.

* * *

Part one: The Hole

They dropped the boy down into the hole like all the ones before.

Leif hardly paid attention to the human. She was sick and hurt and had truly started to hate the filthy magic manipulators. They killed her family. Using her and the others in their tiny magic cages.

Water dripped down all around her, making her wings wilt and snuffing her hair out as the dampness overcame everything else.

The boy did not move for a long time. She liked his hair, she guessed. Bright red strands and eyes the color of calla lilies. She loved calla lilies. She missed the soft petals she used for her nest. She missed the willow leaves she melded together and the smell of honeysuckles her sisters wove into the base of their tree. She missed her sisters.

When the boy finally moved, she could see he was a very young human. One that probably still needed to be herded by a family. What an odd thing. The deaths had brought no one this young into the holes before. He clutched at his arm and bit his lip, moving gingerly around and feeling about. He seemed to take notice then of the circular stone tied to his leg. Something the deaths thought as funny. Weighing the humans down when the hole flooded with water. He frowned at it and tugged experimentally, grimacing at its weight.

It didn't sit well with her that the Deaths were now sending children down into the hole. Not that she cared for what the humans did to their own, but it was a sign that they were sinking to an entirely new form of low. That was always a bad thing.

The boy finally caught sight of her.

She glared at him so that he would know where he stood with her.

"What are you doing down here?" He whispered in disbelief.

She rolled her eyes at him.

He cracked a grin at her.

"Sorry, I guess that's a stupid question, huh?"

She watched wearily as he tugged at his sleeve harshly. The sound of ripping cloth came between them. He grunted as he moved closer to her. She moved back, as far against the cage as she could, hissing at him.

"It's okay, it's okay! Look! You're a fire fairy, right? Use this to dry yourself."

His long fingers entered her cage and she sent a spark his way. He flinched, but carefully set the cloth down. She snatched it up, using it to cover herself from the continuous drops of water.

"Oh, yeah, I guess that sucks."

More ripping sounded.

It was her turn to stare at him in disbelief as he tore a large chunk of his shirt off. He moved closer to her cage again and carefully tied the cloth around her cage, sheltering her from the water. She hugged the cloth tight as she stared at the boy, who shivered in the cold himself. He finally stepped away from the cage, looking up high above to where the bars had been closed over the hole.

It was much warmer now. She still felt sick, but she didn't hurt as much. Leif blew into her hands, a small reddish-orange spark glimmering between her fingers.

"My name is Ron, by the way, since it seems we're going to be stuck in here together for a while."

Leif stared at him, not willing to give her name so easily. Names were considered sacred things among her kind though she knew the humans threw their own names around as if they meant nothing, giving it to enemies and allies alike. Disgraceful behavior really.

The boy sat down across from her, huddled in the corner and staring off into space. Lost. Truly just a young one who had probably been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Leif blew harder into her hands, watching in satisfaction as the fire turned blue, gaining heat. Above her the cloth did a good job of making sure no more water fell into her own personal miny cage.

The same could not be said for the larger one. Water steadily dripped onto the red-haired boy, Ron, causing him to curl into a tight ball, shivering in a manner Leif could sympathize with.

Maybe _this _human was not so bad.

* * *

The days dragged on in a miserable fashion.

Ron, the young one, and she had settled into a routine. The boy kept her dry and she, in turn, warmed him with her magic. He told her stories of his school and of his family and she told him about her own family and her life before this.

Sometimes the other humans would speak up. The Old Man talking about the none magical humans, the muggles, about teaching his grandkids to cook and sew because his own son was hopeless at it. Jagged Tooth would talk about his shop in a place called Diagon Alley. About all the little kids who used to come in and enjoy the peace his shop offered. Miss Hufflepuff talking about her work as an Auror. They all avoided mentioning the war and those lost in it. Leif wasn't sure if that was a human thing or simply something beyond species altogether, because she felt the unspoken agreement as well, though no one but the young one could hear her anyway.

"Ron?"

Leif perked up at the Old Man's voice. The boy tilted his head sluggishly to the side, pulling her cage closer. Water had been running down the sides of the wall for hours now and the young one had been keeping it pulled to his chest in the middle of the cell to keep her as dry as possible.

"Yeah?"

"Listen closely, it's going to flood today."

Both of them stilled at the words. Leif met the boy's eyes with dread. That was it then. She was going to die. The boy's hands tightened around the cage, staring blankly down at her.

"In an hour or so, you need to start climbing. Get as far up the walls as you can. There's cursed magic beneath this castle and if you are wait for the water to take you up then you will drown. The bottom becomes a sort of…"

The Old Man made a noise. Jagged Tooth grunted from his own cell. Taking up the explanation.

"Magic contorts the flow," came Jagged's gruff voice. "Like a vortex. You won't be able to survive if you're near the bottom when the water starts to flood in."

"Right," Old Man said carefully. "Whatever that means… point is that you need to reach the bars because the water will do a sort of sucking thing. Hold on as tight as you can and don't let go."

"Sounds festive," Ron said tiredly. "So vortex of death, flooding water, practically impossible to climb rock wall of survival… anything else I'm missing?"

"Bout sums up the fuckery," Miss. Hufflepuff said cheerfully. "Wish I could say I've been in worse situations, but this takes the cake and the table and the whole god damn party room."

Leif shivered, standing up and walking over to the edge of her cage, putting her hand on the boy's fingers. The young one glanced down at her and tried to smile, but it fell away far too easily. She gestured for him to lean forward so he could hear her better. He did so, ignoring the other humans as they shouted out from their own holes.

"_Tomorrow, promise Leif, you promise to hide my body. No Deaths take me. You promise?" _

She'd seen them take her father, her mother, her siblings away after they died… grabbing at their bodies like trash, tossing them in a box as if they were nothing. She would rather be left in this dank hole, washed away in one of the cracks than go into a box of some humans to be crunched up and sold.

"I won't let you die," the boy growled. "We're going to be fine."

Though even as he said this, she saw his bright blue eyes look skywards, eyeing the wall dubiously. Lifting the chain and ball experimentally and grimacing as it came back down with a heavy 'thunk.'

"'_Child," _Leif said slowly, but loud as she could.

"I'm seventeen, actually," the boy muttered.

"_Child," _Leif repeated, more exasperation coloring her voice.

"I'll do everything I can to help you," he amended.

She nodded in approval. There was never any point in being foolishly optimistic. The truth was always better. Even when facing death.

"I'm a Gryffindor, you see," the boy told her, though she had no idea what that was supposed to me. She raised her eyebrows at him. He chuckled lowly. "Ah, yeah, suppose you… I just mean that my school mates are, um, very positive thinkers. Can do attitudes and all that. I'm usually the more realistic one among my friends, but…" He looked around their cell. "Ther's something about nothing good going my way that makes me want to think more like them."

She hummed.

And then he began to climb.


	2. Part 2: Drowing Softly, Drowning Deeply

Part 2: Drowning Softly, drowning deeply

Leif slammed against the sides of her cage, crying out as her wing bent. Water sloshed mere centimeters below her. She clutched to the cold hand holding tight to the small cage, her eyes fearfully watching as the boy kept his foot pend to the ball, keeping it against the small stone ledge on the other side of the hole, one hand gripping the bars and the other her cage.

If he let go of her, she would fall into the water and die.

If he let go of the ball and it slipped then the weight would rip him down into the vortex of water and they would both die.

If he slipped and let go of the bars then they would both die.

His teeth chattered so hard in between hard-won breaths that Leif herself shook. She pushed as much of her magic into his hand as possible, trying to warm him even though her own body could not generate heat.

They were both exhausted and Leif wondered how the Jagged Tooth human could curse in all of this, how his foul words filled the empty air above them like a beacon screaming 'I am here,' because she herself did not have the energy to do more than cling pathetically and gulp in air as if it were being dragged from her body. They both could hear Miss. Hufflepuff's nails digging into the stone next to their own hole, but Ron could not hold on that way without drowning her.

They could not hear the Old Man at all.

Her eyes met the young ones. Terror. Bone deep exhaustion. A will to live. All the things she felt shined bright in his eyes. Ron weakly pulled himself a bit closer to the bars, further out of the chilled water and gulped in a breath of air not polluted by drops of water and fog that lingered around them. As if even in the slip of space above the vortex and below the bars wanted to kill them through drowning. Just more slowly.

The dew clung to her wings and she wondered if they survived if there was any chance she would ever fly again, or if the damage was too great. Ron came back down and the cage him, just a bit. Water sloshed into the cage and she did not even possess the strength to move away from it. The cage jerked upwards, hitting the bars.

"Sorry."

She shrugged. The small gesture all he could manage. She didn't know how this young one still had the strength to hold on. She rubbed his fingers in a soothing fashion, concentrating all of her focus on the rough callouses on his skin and the freckles, the swirling scars around his wrist, sneaking down into his soaked through shirt. She didn't notice when she started to hum, but she did notice when some of the tension drained out of the young one.

She hummed long into the night.

It took three days for the water to fully drain from the cells again. There was a large ledge about halfway down that the young one was able to rest on late into that next morning. Ron pressed the cage up against the wall and slept with his back to the drop. Leif kept watch, waking him whenever it looked as if he might turn over.

When the boy had rested enough, she took her turn. Curling up in a ball leaning against his damp chest, as much as the bars would allow. The wet cloth was an itch against her skin, but the contact with him helped to make her feel safe while sleeping so it was worth it. A half rotten apple was dropped down into the hole at some point. Ron let her eat her fill before he finished off the rest of it. Rot and all.

"So…" The boy said lightly, tired and weary, but a glint in his eyes. "My old Care of Magical Creature's teacher was sort of a 'the scarier it is the more adorable I find it' type of bloke. We only briefly went over fairies and I was hoping you'd tell me about them?"

She slumped against the cage, her wings still drooping from the excess water, but agreed. Talking was a great way to pass the time in this pit of miserable human filth.

'_We are elemental creatures,' _she began. _'Neither light like the Phoenix nor dark like the Thestrals. We nurture the earth and it nurtures us.' _

* * *

"Do you trust me?"

Leif peered down to see the boy… her boy looking back at her. Eyes a brilliant glittering blue, shining like light off of newly forged metal.

'_Yes.'_

He nodded.

"I'm going to get onto the ledge up there and then pull your cage up," Ron told her, ripping more cloth from his shirt and tying it carefully around his hands. "Then I'm going to use this ball to hit your cage. It's magical, so I won't be able to break it, but I can bend it. If I can shape it so that its thinner than the bars above…"

Oh.

Then she'd be safer when it flooded and her boy would be safer. She nodded eagerly, letting out a squeal of excitement like a fledgling might and not feeling even a touch of embarrassment for it. Her young one gave her a half grin.

She watched him, his back muscles straining, his ripped shirt revealing more of the swirling silver scars across his waist. They reminded her of Silving trees, whose silver roots sprang up from the earth to swirl around the forest floor, providing nooks and hideaways for her kind. The Silving Trees were sources of healing magic and protection and she found it entirely too appropriate.

'_Careful!' _She called up.

Her young one nodded to show he heard and that was when Leif felt dread fill her. Oh dear. He could hear her. That was… not so good. She bit her lip as she wondered what her mother would say if the fairy matriarch learned her magic had become attuned to a human boy. Such close relations with humans was looked down upon as unnatural and grotesque.

Her mother was gone though.

And her papa.

There was no more family to look down on her or condemn her. Only her boy. Leif watched with a more solemn air as Ron made it to the ledge, shaking and trembling, dragging the ball of stone after him with obvious effort. More gingerly he pulled her up, setting her down carefully before tilting the cage on its side.

"You ready?"

Leif looked up at this human, face smudged with dirt and hair flat against his head from grime, fingers shaking and cut up. Freckles barely discernable in all the filth and clothes torn beyond recognition. A strong wind could knock him over, this boy, a small push from her own tiny hands could cause him to fall over the ledge they now sat on.

Yet…

She'd never witnessed a soul crafted from such resilience. There was a fire in this boy. It burned bright and brilliant. Sharp blue eyes stared back at her expectantly, waiting, not dulled in the least by _all of this. _

'_Ready.' _

He brought the stone ball down upon her cage.


	3. Part 3: Resist

Part 3: Resistance

The resistance was something she'd never heard of happening before. When her father talked about humans, it was always as separate from them. Humans, whether magical or not, took from Magical Folk. The wizards and witches of the world considered themselves more important, superior, to other magical beings.

Yet.

The escaped human prisoners sat with the escaped magical folk, reveling in a comradery that was on a base level. Witches and wizards and Centaurs and werewolves and fairies and griffins- all working together. It was wonderful and thrilling to be amongst these different folk as they traveled together, trying to stay one step ahead of the Deaths. Planning strikes and freeing as many magical folk and humans as possible along the way.

But.

She felt like she'd failed.

When the Death took her away, the twisted odd man freeing her, but not her boy- she'd spent weeks trying to get through the magical barrier around the prison… It was her duty and her honor to rescue her boy in the way he had saved her life over and over again during the flooding and keeping her dry in the wet prison around them. Day in and day out. No expectation or interest in being repaid. He had simply done it because he had seen her life as important.

She had not been able to save him though.

He had come into the camp, his arm slung around the Alpha werewolf and Jagged Tooth. His foot where the chain and ball had been was gone. An ugly stump of blackened skin and bloody bandages all that was left and his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

They'd held him down while Leif burned the end to keep infections at bay. The screaming of her boy muffled by the small Beta, Thomas. They couldn't make so much noise. They couldn't betray their location. They couldn't get caught again.

She kept close to Ron as he healed, fever-ridden, curled tight in a ball.

"You should find the rest of your family," Ron told her one night when he'd finally been coherent enough to eat without assistance.

"_I have," _she told him.

* * *

They were too large of a group to travel together. Jagged Tooth led the humans who'd escaped, traveling and fighting with the Griffins from the sky. Miss. Hufflepuff agreed to work with the Centaurs. Ron and herself would stay with the werewolves. There were only four or five wands between the entire resistance, but Ron had gotten one of them. It was agreed that the wizards and witches would use patronuses in order to keep the resistance informed of each others movements.

If anyone came in contact with Order members then they would contact the others immediately. Leif had watched in curiosity as Miss. Hufflepuff gripped Ron's shoulder and pulled him into a hug at this, telling him that they would get back to the others soon. Apparently Ron and Miss. Hufflepuff had been apart of this group before things went so far down hill for them. Before they were prisoners.

The Old Man, the muggle, had died in the escape. Tooth, Huffle, and her boy had all decided to go by the names the Deaths had dubbed them in the prisons. Both to keep their families safer and as a 'fuck you' to the human monsters. And so her boy was known as Spitfire among the resistance.

She found it rather fitting.

Her boy was a red-haired fox among the werewolves. His freckled pale skin contrasting sharply against their tan skin. Though there was so much grime and dirt shared between them that by the end of the month, they all looked as if they had the same skin tone.

"So," Jane Putman said casually, biting into her overcooked rabbit, "I heard you were traveling with Potter before all this stuff went down."

She felt her boy tense under her. She had been dozing against his neck and sat up to pay better attention to the conversation around the fire. Ron shrugged, swallowing his mouthful before staring off into the forest.

"Come on now, little Spitfire," Jane urged, "give us a bit more than that. We're all curious even if these cowards don't want to put forward the words."

"Well mannered is the better phrase," Thomas muttered.

"We're at war, we are eating scraps in a forest because if we're caught in civilized company we will be murdered," Jane said in exasperation. "Manners are for the dead and dying. We need information."

"Then maybe you shouldn't word it like you're asking for the latest gossip," Thomas pointed out. The beta turned to Ron with a weak smile and Leif had to wonder how this man managed to be placed as the second in command of a werewolf pack. "Sorry, she can be a bit much, but she's got the best of intentions."

"It's fine," Ron said with a shrug, though she noticed his fingers were tapping the stick the rabbit had been skewered on in that manner he did while agitated in the cell. "All I can tell you though is that Albus Dumbledore helped us to create a plan that would take down You-Know-Who. We're going to win this war. Harry's going to lead us to victory."

"That's a lot of confidence you have in him," Jane said carefully. "Especially seeing as he's a kid like you. What's so special about Harry Potter?"

"Everything," Ron said with a grin. "The bloke is this short little glasses wearing git who goes around spouting how unfit he is to be 'the savior' and who never has a bleedin' plan going into anything."

Around the fire, the werewolves stared at them blankly, eyes wide. Odin was choking on his meat, beating his fist furiously against his chest while someone hit him hard on the back. A chunk flying out of his mouth before bursting into flames as it landed in the fire.

"Inspiring speech," the Alpha wheezed out. "I now have all the confidence in the world that we're going to win a war."

Her boy shook his head, an odd crooked grin on his face that was much nicer than the dead-eyed emptiness he'd been prone to these last few days.

"No one would think much of him," Ron easily agreed, "but see, the thing is that Harry doesn't listen to anybody. Even when the whole bloody world thinks he's wrong and wants to stop him, he still pushes forward. When he sees something out of place or something that needs to be fixed he just… he fixes it. He fights basilisk in order to save a little girl or follows the Grim into a tree hell-bent on killing him to save his friend. Harry… he… he does the impossible for people. Even though it's the last thing in the world he wants to be doing."

"Sounds like a pretty great guy," one of the werewolves behind her said. Everyone was gathering closer to the fire as her boy spoke, their eyes intent and full of curiosity. She too drew closer, watching as warmth filled his eyes. He was like a light when he spoke, all fire and warmth and fondness.

"He really is." Ron told them. "Harry doesn't do things for glory or because it's expected of him, he fights because if he didn't then the people he loves would die. He's lost a lot of loved ones already and doesn't want anyone to experience what he has. He's a bit of an idiot though, he doesn't really think things through before he jumps into a half baked plan, so there's no way he's going to win this war by himself."

She watched her boy stand up, looking the werewolves in the eyes.

"That's why he needs every one of us to fight in this war. We have a means of destroying You-Know-Who but as long as he has followers and as long as we continue to hide and run instead of taking down as many of these bastards as possible, then it's that much harder the war will be to win."

"That's all well and good," Odin said, standing as well to meet Ron. "But I'm not endangering these people for no reason or fighting for some brat I've never met."

"Then fight for your people," Ron shot back. "Fight for werewolves to go free. We're going to have to rebuild the government after this is all over. The question is, will you be on the victor's side with a story to tell people to get the freedom you deserve? Or will you hide in the shadows and let others fight the war for you and end up with no words to say?"

"We shouldn't have to have a war story to deserve freedom," Odin growled, stabbing Ron in the chest.

Leif hissed, sparking her fire as a warning.

"No," Ron agreed. "You shouldn't. The world isn't fair though and it isn't nice. It's full of bigots and elitists and bloody rich gits that like to throw their money around to get what they want. It's full of people who will execute those you love just to put you back into your place, to make you give up. You need to prove you deserve basic rights because the system is a nasty piece of work, but we'll fix that."

Ron held out his hand to Odin.

"Fight beside me today and I'll fight beside you tomorrow and every day after. We can build a place where we can all live peacefully no matter what our blood status is or what species we are or what curse we might bare, but in order to do that we have to win this war first or we'll all be enslaved or killed. No matter what, I will fight for your rights. No matter what, Harry Potter will fight for your rights because that's the type of person he is, but it would be a hell of a lot easier to do that if he was alive at the end of all this. And it will be a hell of a lot more bloody likely if we all fight for that end instead of leaving it to just some midget in glasses whose a shit planner."

Odin's grin was savage as he grabbed ahold of Ron's hand.

"I hope you're not a shit planner too," Odin said, hand tightening.

"There's a lot of things I suck at," her boy said, his own hand tightening, "but checkmating someone isn't one of them."


	4. Part 4: Split

Part 4: Split

Leif's young one was gone. She could not sense him anywhere. It was as if his life had been snuffed out, but she knew… she knew this was not true. She had given him her mark and if he were truly gone then she would have felt it.

The deaths had taken him. Masks of ebony and grief with sticks weaving darkness and pain. He hated them. Those creatures who had stolen her family from her and who were trying to steal her new family.

The deaths patrolled the forests and the cities, both muggle and magical and Leif followed… at a distance, hoping that the horrid creatures would lead her to her young one. The days turned from long and cold to warm and short and still she could not find him. She could not find him and they took him! They took him from her!

She cried.

Her flames began to flicker in and out of existence as she struggled to keep going. Other fairies she ran into begged her to stay, to hide away, but she couldn't. They told her the deaths would burn her out, they would drag her into their darkness and wipe out her light, but she needed to find her young one.

_Why? _They asked. _He's a human. _

They didn't understand. Her boy. Her young one had been trapped in that hole in the ground with her. He had saved her. Kept her dry. Made sure that her fire did not go out. For hours he would hold her above the water, despite nearly drowning himself. They fought together to escape. They fought together against the deaths. Her boy. Her young one.

So she kept going.

She followed the deaths into one desolate cave of death into another, into broken homes and into dark places where there were screams and hurt and pain and horror and no where could she find her boy.

Until one day she did.

* * *

She followed a woman of death. She did not wear a mask, but she led ones who did. Blonde and young and beautiful, but death all the same. Towering men with ebony masks marching into a… into a muggle abode. The muggles greeted them like old friends and smiled and waved and Leif watched in confusion as magic twisted the place into something it was not.

But when the magic opened up the walls she felt him.

Something was wrong, wrong, wrong. She felt him, but she did not. He was different. He was hurt. His soul was hurt. Leif barely waited for the deaths to dissapear into the twisted walls before she sped towards her young one. Fire flickering in rage and fear and want.

She flew into the darkest of halls where locked doors lined the walls. Her young one was behind the farthest back. The metal handle had magic in its fibers, but she had better magic. Stronger magic. She burned and burned and burned until the charred pieces broken and ash fluttered to the ground before her and then she was in!

And her boy… oh her boy.

Leif sobbed as she flew up to him, lying on the floor, tainted. He was so very tainted. A dark magic leeching onto his very soul. Those deaths had torn him apart. Had stolen some of the fire in his soul. Wild red hair looked duller than before and milky white eyes stared out at her from throbbing black threads across his face. Where was his blue? Where was the sparkling blue she loved so much?

"Leif?"

She kissed his cheek.

'_Yes, I am here.' _

Her young one curled into a tired ball, his teeth gritting so hard she heard a crack. He trembled and before she knew it, sobs wracked his frame. She hugged his cheeked and cried with him, feeling the cold of his skin and immediately giving him some of her fire, warming some life back into him. She nuzzled and cooed and whispered to him for hours as she worked on the bindings against his chest and arms.

When finally they were gone, her young one held her close for a long time. The humans did not come to deliver any food and did not come to deliver water. She was thankful in this moment, for they did need to leave this place, but she knew the darker things this meant for her young one.

"_Come. We must leave." _

He nodded, trembling as he pulled himself to the door. Leif glanced at the stump, biting her lip as she realized he no longer had his walking stick and the leg the wolf man had made for her young one. Her young one did not complain though.

"I'll need time to get down the halls. Can you play look out?" He whispered, hoarse.

She nodded, proud of his spirit. Glad it was somewhat still in tact. She would play the other half of his soul if needed. He would not get out of her sight ever again. She flew down the hallway, checking for any of the humans or deaths. Seeing none, she flared her fire. They followed this trend until they came acrossed a kitchen on one of the mid levels.

Muggles were inside.

Her young one slid under a cloth covered table as they entered the room and she hid in an alcove near the ceiling. They spoke of things she did not understand. Lingering too long in the room. Her anxiousness flared as she saw one step near the table, sitting in one of the chairs and shoving his feet beneath.

She would burn him if he found her young one.

No noise was made from her boy though. They longer they stayed here the more likely they were to be found out though and less chance they would escape the deaths. She snuck away, finding a place with odd pieces upon tables she could not and did not care to name, but what she did know was that they made a great deal of noise when they were pushed off their table.

Humans flooded in, yelling angrily and searching the room. She flew back to her boy, glad to see the room deserted, and quickly gestured for him to follow her. He did. Moving slowly from the room.

When she found a pole she guided his hand to its length and he took it with ease, standing awkwardly and they moved faster from there on. He followed her dilligently, listening to her whispered instructions and obeying without hesitation.

It was not long though when his heavy, ragged breaths began to ravage the rest of his body in clear exhaustion. His body was sick. His mind torn. His soul incomplete. She bit her lip as she realized if one single person caught them, her boy would not be able to fight back.

"How far?" He whispered, pained.

"_One more stair. One more. You be good. You do this. We get out. We go far. Then rest. No rest yet." _

He nodded, leaning too heavily against the wall.

"Okay."

She nodded in approval.

The thud of the pole was too loud as it hit the stairs. Her boy tried to muffle the sound, but the metal against stone echoed despite his best efforts. She winced and he cringed. They did not stop though. They did not have time. If they alerted someone then there was no where to hide at this point. No conveniant tables, no closets. Open space.

"_Hurry!"_

He coughed harshly. His arms using the walls as much as the pole as he limped up one stair after another without pause. She could see the entrance! They were almost there. She tugged at his locks, urging him on.

"_We are there! Come! Come!" _

Milky eyes glanced blindly in front of them. Breaths heaving as he lurched up the last step and almost stumbled. There was a gate directly in front of them. She thought nothing of it. Flying forward and setting her magic against the lock. It turned a deep red before bending to her will.

"_Push!" _She urged.

He did. The metal swung open and her boy followed it, reaching for the door.

Green light slammed into the glass above them.

Shattering it.

They both ducked. She whirled around to see a man in an ebony mask. It's grotesque face contorted into a smile with razor sharp teeth carved into it. A Death. Right at the threshold of freedom.

"And where exactly do you think you're going, Ronald Weasley?"


	5. Part 5: Tumble Downt he Road

Part 5: Tumble Down the Road

Leif roared in fury.

Blue fire rose up within her as she threw herself at the death. She heard the man curse as her boy screamed at her to run. She would not! She would not! Her young one belonged to her and she would not allow this death to have him!

The death used his stick to fling magic at her but she dodged and burned his mask. The twisted ugly smile turning black as she tore at the fangs. Killer of fairies! Foul beast of death! She took every scrap of her magic and burned through the mask and to the thing beneath.

The death screamed, clutching at his face and dropping to the ground.

"Leif! Leif!" Her young one yelled. "You got him! We have to go! You got him! There's more coming!"

She zipped back, hearing now what her young one did. The stampede of feet. Her boy opened the door and together they threw themselves outside. She spotted one of the fast things on the pavement.

"_Come!"_

She dragged him to the contraption. Forcing his fingers onto the metal.

"A car? Leif, I can't see!"

"_My eyes see!" _

They did not have time to argue. He fumbled for the door, it opened up and he fell inside, his fingers feeling along the contraption.

"Are there keys? I need keys!"

She looked around and spotted the metal keys on the seat next to him. She picked them up and handed them to her boy. He trembled as he tried one then two of the keys. Shoving them into the crack. The thing roared to life, startling her. She covered her ears as her boy slam the door shut.

"Weasley!"

A Death had come out of the building.

Leif hit her boy's shoulder as the metal creature shot forward. Glass shattered and Leif clutched at the wild red hair as she looked around her.

"_Lean left!" _She shrieked.

Her young one moved the thing left and they missed a gate by inches.

"_Straight." _

They hit a bump and the metal creature lurched too far right, hitting wood and cracking the glass in front of them.

"Fuck," her boy muttered.

"_Is good, keep straight!" _

"Fuck," he repeated.

Something rammed into the back. Clutching her boy's hair she twisted around to see the corner of the metal creature smoking. A chunk of metal missing. Deaths on brooms followed them. Magic hurling towards them.

"_Left!" _

The thing moved left as brilliant blues and greens shot passed. The road exploded, chunks ramming into the side and taking with it glass and metal.

"_Stop!" _

Her boy hit something beneath the circle he clutched and the metal creature screeched to a halt. One of the deaths veered away in time, but the other hit the back of the metal creature, the front of his broom catching onto its metal head and going head first. Hitting first the top and then the glass in front of them before landing on the front of their fast creature.

Her boy did not need to be told what to do then. He hit one of the pieces beneath and the metal creature lurched forward. The death fell off and her boy kept going, ramming the creature over the death's body.

"_Road on left," _she instructed him. He moved the stick thing in the center and the creature moved forward, back onto the road. Almost too far. _"Right a little."_

The top of the creature shattered.

She hunched down with her boy, the creature moving faster as they careened forward. She marveled that the poor thing, 'car' her boy had called it, could still move while so hurt.

"Think you can escape!" A death shouted, ebony face glowering down at them. Death magic came down on them, glowing a sickening green.

"_Right!" _

Her boy turned the creature. The death magic slamming into the back, taking a chunk of the creature with it. And then a terrible thing happened. The creature flipped. Leif screamed as metal and glass turned and crunched. Noise so loud it was as if thunder echoed in her soul. She felt more than saw their bodies move from the creature and knew at that moment that they would die.

The whole world shook as she threw her magic around them in a last-ditch attempt to avoid damage. Encircling them with the magic of protection to soften the blow. As they landed in the dirt, the last of her magic left her. Even the wisp she needed to hover. It was gone. She clutched onto her boy as they rolled, surrounded by fiery blue and red and hitting rock and thorns as they slid across the earth.

Her boy was still.

Her wings were lifeless, flattened against her back. Her blue flames lighting her hair were extinguished. She breathed heavily as she tried to make the world right itself. Where was the death? They could not be still. They needed to move.

She fell against her boy's cheek.

Weakly, she put her hand against his freckles and felt the thread of life still there.

"_Up!" _She commanded.

He did not move. Blood slipped down from his forehead and his eyes remained closed. The deep red mixing with his hair and contrasting against his already too pale skin.

"_Up!" _She begged him. _"Up! Get Up! We fight!" _

She heard the sound of clapping. Her lips trembled as she turned to see a death approaching. The ebony mask tilted slightly and she felt that the human was smiling. Mocking her and her boy. She growled weakly as the death stopped in front of them.

"I had heard that the little Spitfire was tenacious, but I truly never expected this," the death said in amusement. "Using a fire fairy to escape! Marvelous, simply marvelous."

She bared his teeth at the death.

She had no more magic. She couldn't even stand at this point. This was the end of the line. She fought the tears that threatened to fall. She'd thought she could do it. She thought she could save her boy in the way he had saved her.

Magic thrummed beneath her.

She breathed slowly as she glanced down at her boy. No. She… she couldn't do that. She would no longer be welcomed among fairies if she… It was better to die than take on such tainted magic.

The death grinned, marching forward and slamming his foot into her boy. She screamed in fury, watching as the death put his boot on her boy's shoulder. She tried to stand, but she collapsed against his collarbone.

"So loyal," the death said in amusement. "You feel an attachment to this bloodtraitor, do you?"

Leif shook, the tears finally falling.

Then she did what her boy would do.

She reached down into her boy's core, into the tainted, cursed magic and into the phoenix that stitched him together into something resembling wholeness. She reached down into the rot the dark lord had left, into the light the Phoenix created, into the fire that was her boy's core… she reached into all of the mess that made him up and she connected it to her own soul.

Blue, yellow, and red flames lit upon her body.

In a cry of hatred and fury, she shot forward and slammed into the body above them. The death cried out in shock, raising his magic stick, but she would not allow him to cast a single dark thing from his monstrous lips. With a great heave of her magic, she set him aflame. Fire licked at his hair and his skin, at his clothes and his wand. Burning everything.

He screamed and dropped to the ground, raising his stick. She was too fast though. She grabbed hold of the stick and burned it. Turning the wood black and then watching in satisfaction as it crumbled, nothing but ash. He swiped at her, but she moved away from him, watching dispassionately as he tried to put out the flames, screaming as he burned.

It took time, but the Death stopped moving.

She nuzzled her boy then, patting his cheek and trying to wake him. More would come. They needed to move. They needed to go. Gently, she nudged his core. His body curled into itself at the nudge. Then, his eyes opened to slits, bleary and unready to waken. Milky white eyes looked back at her.

"_Up," _she whispered. Greif made her voice shake. She could feel the tainted dark magic in her now. Could feel the sickness that tainted her boy. The ache in her soul that he felt. She would kill the dark lord human for this. She would kill him. _"You up, now, we need to go." _

He trembled, pushing himself into a sitting position but before he was fully up he fell back down.

"Give me a minute. Just a minute."

"_No time," _she cried. _"No time." _

"Okay."

He pushed himself up.


End file.
